| It’s the ol'-sama
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| Of the Commie-sama
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| With the Ichiban DJ
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| King of the Iron Fist
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| We nasty at this
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| Jeru the Damaja, DJ Honda, unorthodox
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| Off beat style, Musashi style
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| Lyrical swordplay
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| And it goes like this, check it
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| Black Castro up on me, Fidel Negro
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| King terrific can’t be hit
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| You’re wastin' time, spendin' ammo
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| Scientists balance pol-ar
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| Digital mic-ro chips in your mo-lar
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| Hardcore nucle-ar
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| Ain’t the devil happy? |
| Har-har
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| Rich rap star keep the sol-ar manifestation
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| And the stars succeed to the sun in this mathematical equation
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| Police still on my dick like an invasion
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| Lock me up, snatch up the transportation
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| Winter in New York, South Pacific migration
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| Wack emcee’s watch this nigga’s frustration
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| Believe me when I tell you that I dictate the mic like Fidel does his nation
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| Keep it flowin' like libation
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| Big heads the perfect target for decapitation
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| Cook rhymes 'till they al dente
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| Lock down the mic like El Presidente
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| (scratches by DJ Honda)
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| +Rule the mic like Fidel Castro+
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| Conquer more dips than the late Hannibal
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| Terrain gets too rough, I ride the beats like wooly mammals
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| Smokin' shit like Joe Camel
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| Fatally inhale
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| Double-0-seven but you still got tail
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| Q’s scrambling device must have failed
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| Spies, thick thighs, and mics get mil, lies
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| Deception, military prowess
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| Fat bitches, tours, and microphone powers
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| Chemical warfare and mortar showers
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| Once again blowin' up shit like the Twin Towers
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| Poison rhymes for enemies or whoever devours
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| Holdin' shit down until the last hours
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| (scratches by DJ Honda)
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| +Rule the mic like Fidel Castro+
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| El Presidente
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| Fidel Negro
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| DJ Honda
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| Black Castro
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| Musashi be doin' it like that
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| Lyrical sword style, you know what I’m sayin'?
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| Puttin' all emcees out on they back
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| Can’t handle it
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| You don’t know it hits you 'till it hits you
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| That’s it
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| We done, finished
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| Peace |